These Nights
by darkalbino
Summary: I don't know why he does it...but I know why I let him. SasuNaru. Oneshot.


**Title**: These Nights

**Rating**: M

**Author**: darkalbino, illi, me (me, myself, and I)

Normally, I am not one for sad endings. In fact, I am (most of the time) wholly AGAINST sad endings. But this, this was just BEGGING to be written, so...sorry. It was inspired after Chapter 416 of the manga, by Sasuke's words.

**Summary**: I don't know why he does it...but I know why I let him. SasuNaru.

**Warnings**: If you're expecting a butterfly kisses, rainbow bunnies ending, then i am WARNING you to leave NOW. There, I said it, so I better not get any whining reviews! Language, SasuNaru, implied NaruSasu, sexual situation, violence. ANGST (gasp, fear it! XD)

**Disclaimer**: If I owned Naruto -sniff- Sasuke would have NEVER said such words T.T and this story would have never been created.

ONE MORE TIME. THIS STORY IS VERY **BITTER. SWEET.** ROMANCE FLUFF BUNNIES WHO THINK THEY WILL CRY READ AT THY OWN PERIL!

Thank You n.n

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**xxxThese Nightsxxx**

It always starts with a fight.

And this time was no different. We're tangled in the sheets, punches flying and clothes ripping away.

Strangely enough, my first goal is never to pin him, but to make sure I get every shred of fabric off of him. Probably to ascertain the path this will most likely go. I could care less who has who trapped against some surface, because really, when you think about it, it always leads to same thing.

My window is wide open, moonlight lighting my bed like a stage, like an invitation for the world to see us. I don't bother closing it anymore, because it _is_ an invitation. Not for the world, but for _him_.

I don't remember the exact day, the precise hour, the very minute this all started. Not too long ago from what I can collect. But one night a month, every month, finds Sasuke and me in this strange ritual.

We're on the floor now, and he's won this time. His fingers are wrapped around my wrists, forcing them to the floor. His knees are on my thighs, and he's glaring down at me. We're both breathing heavily, hard from the thought of what comes next, and naked as the day we were born.

It's not always this way though. During these little fights, neither of us have used anything but physical force. And though I would love to give the bastard a first-hand show of my sage training, I'm hesitant to break this silent agreement.

But sometimes I'll cheat. Using Kyuubi when the temptation of being surrounded by Sasuke, of pushing out restrained cries and grunts, is just to enticing to resist. When the urge of having him moaning and sweating beneath me, cursing me with words that cut like the sharp edge of a blade, is too strong to ignore. But on these occurrences, Sasuke is sure to come back twice as brutal as before.

I feel his fingers loosen around my wrists, their tips skim down my arms and stomach until he moves his knees and they're resting beneath my thighs. But his smoldering gaze betrays the gentle touch.

He pushes my thighs up and apart.

Sometimes (when he's feeling generous I suppose) he prepares me, and other times (meaning most), he doesn't.

This time, it's the latter.

Without any warning, Sasuke thrusts straight into me, and I fail to bite down a startled and painful yelp.

I may not remember _when_ Sasuke's first visit was, but the more important aspects of that night are lucidly clear.

I recall my lids splitting open of their own accord, my body reacting to something my mind hadn't caught up to yet. And I see Sasuke standing by my bed, with what had to be the mother of all scowls twisting his face, aimed right at me.

I was shocked beyond all comprehension, so of course I'm not expecting the fist that slams straight into my cheek.

That's all it took, we started beating the living shit out of each other. Striking until his pretty pale skin was black and blue, until my own lips and cuts were streaming blood, simultaneously steaming as the wounds healed.

After the punches and kicks and storm of violence, we were both sweating profusely, and cursing enough to turn our mouths black.

Not from the fight, but from what the fight had become.

I had somehow wound up on my hands and knees, Sasuke above me with one hand on my hip as he drove something warm and hard in and out of me repeatedly.

I remember my vision burning white, and spots dancing in front of me every time he struck this spot inside. I remember a string of whimpers and profanity, as the foreign onslaught of pleasured pain wracked my body, making it shudder with a nearly insatiable need for more.

Much like it was right now.

I'm a ninja. I've been thrown, stabbed, burned, and nearly drowned to death on more than one occasion. Save for the first thrust, this is nothing. The bliss and the hurt build up to overwhelming levels, until they collapse in on themselves, morphing and mixing into something that has me begging for more.

I feel, more than hear, the moans flow from my chest, and he continues to pound me relentlessly into the floor. This kind of pleasure should be a sin is what I think as I stare up Sasuke, who is staring back at me. And that's all that fills my mind on these nights:

Sasuke. Here. With me.

His hands are suddenly at my wrists again, coal eyes falling closely and flashing red before me as his lips curl in a sneer.

God he's close. We're nose to nose, I can count the sweat droplets on his forehead. But the fact that he's still rocking against me has my thoughts in a bit of a blur. I do realize though, that if I just tilt my head a bit, we'd be kissing. Something I've yearned for but that we've yet to do. If I wasn't so afraid that it would piss him off and make him leave, I would push my mouth to his without a second thought.

I can't help but wonder if a kiss would change anything at all.

I'd like to say I'm in love with Sasuke. But I have no right or place to say such a thing, because I have no idea what love is supposed to feel like. The difference between loving someone, and being _in_ love with someone.

I love my friends, that's no riddle. But it makes me cringe to think that the only reason I'm "in love" with Sasuke, is because he's a friend I'm sexually attracted to. It's not a satisfying answer, nor one I'm willing to accept.

I feel Sasuke is a whole level above my other friends, maybe two. I have a connection with him that I can't put a name on, that I can't explain. Love, I figure, must be like faith. Believing in something that you know, in your gut, is there, but cannot see, touch, or voice. Something ties me to him, and him to me. Despite what he says about severing bonds, there's not a doubt in my mind that ours is unbreakable.

And that's why I can lay here and let him fuck me, use me, pleasure me, and give it to him in return. Because it feels good. Because I know he needs it. I know he _wants_ it. And I don't think much past that.

Something tells me my thoughts have been reflected in my eyes, because Sasuke suddenly claps a hand over them with a low growl. His breath ghosts over my lips as he speaks, "Don't fucking look at me like that."

The hyper-sensitive flesh between my legs is ground down by his stomach as he presses closer to me, pleasure spiking as his hips jerk roughly into mine.

I know Sasuke wants this to be emotionless screwing, which is why I always find our physical fighting far easier than the battle that erupts during sex.

Even though Sasuke is damn good at masking his feelings, I like to think that once in a while he fights himself to bring them out. When his thrusts are significantly gentler than most times, when he mutters things against my hair that I don't really catch but feel are warm and affectionate. I remember once, when I had him on his back on my bed, he twined our fingers beside his head, and I had to bite my lip to keep tears at bay from the rush of joy that assaulted me.

I, on the other hand, am the exact opposite. I try my best to keep this as cold and straight as Sasuke wants it to be, fighting _down_ the surge of emotion that rises and swells inside of me from just looking at the fucking bastard.

But that is an uphill, losing battle.

The hand that was left on my wrist slides over to the dip of my collarbone, "I can move...past them." he whispers between grunts, "Kakashi...nhn-" I cried out at a particularly deep thrust, "Sakura...I'd kill- anh -_everyone_. But you..."

My heart hammers against my chest as his fingers climb up and close dangerously around my throat, "_You_, Naruto..." His head drops by his hand and he pants against me, the rhythm we had built up falls apart as his movements grow frantic and violent, "Because of you" I hear him spit through gritted teeth, "I can't..."

I still can't see him, but I feel him jerk back up, leaving both hands in their places.

My chest is about to burst from the push of my heart, which I swear must be exploding with emotion.

We never speak much to each other on these nights, but what Sasuke does say always comes out broken and incomplete. His words are like petals that fall through my fingers, I love to hear him but I can't grasp what he says.

I raise a hand and touch my fingers to the soft flesh of his parted mouth, fairly surprised when he doesn't bat it away. The feelings inside me are brimming over their edges, and I wonder if Sasuke can feel them through the touch. If he can understand how deep they run or how hard it is to do this with him without feeling this way.

If he even wants to understand.

Maybe we've been going about this the wrong way. Maybe instead of stomping down my emotions, I should let them spill over to help Sasuke bring out his. Maybe this touch is where I can start.

But the contact does little, if anything. His hands fall away to slam on either side of my head. We lock gazes.

He's showing about as much tenderness as a lion gives to a baby lamb.

Something snaps inside me, and for the moment, I give up on bringing him around. My arms quickly curl under his, hooking over his shoulders and pulling him close. My nails dig harshly into his skin, and he winces as they draw blood.

I grin ferally at this, winding my leg around his side to flip him so we switch positions.

Now _I_ have his wrists to the floor, slamming myself down on him over and over, a deep growl emanating from within me. Urge has taken over, and I watch my now clawed fingers flee from his wrists and rake down his sides, leaving thick red trails in their wake.

He gives a strangled cry at the painful touch, mixed with the hot pleasure of still being inside of me. It's a curious expression to see, anger mixed with ecstasy. His own hands claw at me, and soon, blood spots are strewn on the floor.

My hands push against his shoulders, holding him down as I focus solely on having him inside me, out of me and back inside again. The beast like fury that I felt earlier dies down as the feeling drugs me, drowns me. I see the claws on my fingertips receding as one hand moves away from its place and wraps around my cock, pumping it as my eyes roll back in pleasure. I'm caught off guard when Sasuke lurches and takes us back to our initial position.

"A baka should know his place." he bites. His slams are faster, harder, rougher. I realize I'm mumbling something under my breath, which soon becomes broken versions of Sasuke's name with an occasional "fuck" thrown in.

Sasuke goes stiff, his hips hold against me as far as they can go before he lets out a guttural moan and leaves his mark inside me.

The feeling sends a flash of pleasurable shocks rippling across my body, and I scream his name as loud as my lungs allow when I release between us.

Despite his orgasm, Sasuke is still thrusting, the passage slick with his seed. I feel his movements but my mind is fogged, my gaze fixed on the scene beside us.

The lamp by my bed is broken from our brawl, shattered pieces everywhere. The sheets are twisted menacingly and partially off the bed, and the floor is spotted and stained with our blood.

It doesn't look anything like a bower of love. In fact, I think to myself, the closest way to describe would be to the scene of a crime.

Sasuke finally slows down and pulls out of me, and I know what happens next.

He'll stand up, clean himself off, dress, and walk far away from me. I'll lay here and whisper questions and sentiments that he'll just shrug off or ignore as he waits for me to go to sleep, which I inevitably do every time. He won't leave otherwise, because he knows I'll follow his ass the moment he steps out.

But not this time.

I wrap my arms around him as he tries to get up, yank him back to me so our chests crash and knocks the air out of both of us.

He grunts and tries to pull away, but I hold firm and steady. I'm not called stubborn for nothing.

I feel his lips move against my throat as he speaks, voice flaring with anger and annoyance, "Let go of me." he orders.

Immediately, I shake my head no and hold him tighter, "I can't." is what I whisper back.

We both know the words are not specific to this moment, but are the story of our lives, our whole relationship. From the moment Sasuke turned and walked away from me under the sky's tears.

A pregnant silence passes between us, in which we both lie entirely, utterly still. The silence is hurting my ears, and I can't even tell if we're still breathing. But the frozen atmosphere is shattered when Sasuke releases a heavy, drawn out sigh, "Dobe..." he groans. The word sounds tired, drained, teasing. Like the way he used to say it when we were kids and he grew annoyed with me. It lets me know that, for now, I've won.

I strain to keep my eyes open, to stay awake and alert. Because if I do, Sasuke won't move from here. From me.

But I never stay awake, no matter how hard I try. I feel like a child, who every new year tries valiantly to stay up for the stroke of midnight, and every new morning wakes to find that he has failed.

It doesn't help that I'm so exhausted after our...intercourse...love-making...fucking...whatever it is we're doing here. It doesn't help that Sasuke's breath, warm and so familiar, is fanning over my senses. And it certainly doesn't help that his body molds so perfectly with mine, that with him held against me like this, I'm drowned in this feeling of comfort.

My fingers twitch around him in a desperate effort to hold him tighter. It will be another thirty days and nights before I can touch him like this again, before I can touch him at all.

As my eyes gradually drop and slide closed, I savor everything about Sasuke with me. I burn it in my memory for easy revisitation. Because I know when next they open, it will be to the blur of tears...and empty arms.

**-Owari-**

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Goddamn fucking plot bunnies. They just won't leave me alone T.T

when one of my muses (Meme! X3) read this, she said she felt like slitting her wrists at the end...and punching a baby. Personally, I think the whole thing is more on the bitter-sweet side than the depressing side, but to each his own.

originally, i was writing it in third person POV, but I felt that first person would be more effective so I switched it to Naruto POV. i think it came out OKAY but i made him a bit too...articulate, i think. but overall i like it.

**NO SEQUEL.** i love you all but don't expect a sequel to this in any way, shape, or form. it ain't gonna happen.

and about my month-long absence, I apologize. I was computer-less (**INCONCEIVABLE**! i know) but sadly, expect updates to decrease **DRASTICALLY** because I had no clue Senior year was going to be so f-ing time consuming. school has eaten up so much of my time! i have ch 12 planned out for "Love Bites" but only **ONE** scene written so far because of time constraints.

well, i'm glad to be back nevertheless. and remember, inspiration drives authors to write faster, i'm inspired by reviews -wink wink nudge nudge-. but "Love Bites" should be updated within the month...i hope -.-...damn education...

-blows kisses to readers-


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